


Step Right Up (Don't Be Shy)

by Not_You



Series: One Rainy Night [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Historical, Artist Steve Rogers, Body Image, Bottom Steve Rogers, Fear of Discovery, Friends With Benefits, Great Depression, Hand Feeding, Lust, M/M, Nipple Play, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Thor, Rain, Size Difference, Size Kink, Strength Kink, Thor Is Not Stupid, a good old-fashioned blanket scenario fic, fear of brutal homophobic violence but thor is a sweetie so it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2071191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers does all the promotional art for The Triskelion Circus, a spot of brightness in the Dust Bowl.  Bucky looks after him, and Thor is intimidating and apparently unattainable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Steve steps back from his completed work, taking a long look at it. The detail is good, the colors are bright... There's one more thing to consider, though, so he sticks his head out the wagon window and whistles sharply, making Bucky look up from his poker game with some of the other roustabouts. Steve waves him over, and Bucky grins, setting his hand down on the crate they're using for a table and assuring the boys that he'll be right back. They're used to his unofficial second job as Steve's art critic, and don't really resent it because posters are a huge part of selling a circus, and Steve is the best artist they've ever had. Steve pulls his head and arm back inside, and smiles when Bucky opens the door and comes up the three tiny steps.

"All right, kiddo, what you got?"

Steve gestures to the drying original. Bucky's opinion is more important even than usual, because this one is of Thor, and Steve really doesn't want to get arrested. Or have his ass kicked by their strongman. "Well?"

Bucky regards the image carefully, head cocked first to one side and then the other. "His hair's awful pretty, but you're a real artist, no one's gonna make no nevermind about that. His basket, though..."

"It actually is that size!" Steve protests, going scarlet. Thor's tight pants are probably at least twenty-five percent of the draw of his act, but Steve's loving representation may be a little bit too accurate.

Bucky puts a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder. "Steve, buddy, dearest pal o' mine. I can practically read the wrinkles on his cock." Steve curses and starts blurring things a little, and taking down some of the shine on the fabric even if Thor's balls _are_ clearly visible in those pants, each one with its own gleaming, touchable highlight. "There you go," Bucky says, "much less queer."

"Thanks."

"We Do Our Part," Bucky says, grinning and bounding off the steps and away again. Steve laughs, and starts sketching Natasha, which is perfectly safe. Natasha is a pretty girl, so Steve is free to go all-out and actually capture her beauty. Clint's, too, but one unbreakable rule of the business is 'tits out front.' Natasha said it herself, so Steve only feels a little bad when he thinks it, putting all the highlights on them that he feels like. He may be a complete fairy, but he knows gorgeous when he sees it, and has done enough eight-pagers to know how everything is put together. He gets lost in the work, and doesn't look up again until Bucky brings him dinner.

"Seriously, kid, if you lose any weight you're not gonna exist."

Steve grins, taking his bowl of soup and slightly stale roll. "Thanks a lot, you jerk." The bread is good enough to still be worth eating, and he devours it as Bucky examines the sketch of their death-defying sharpshooters and acrobats. 

"Nice work." He looks a little wistful, the way he usually does when he watches Clint and Natasha. They don't talk about it much, but he looks at them the way Steve looks at Thor. Steve still isn't sure if it's one or both of them, because they're basically inseparable and Bucky is only half-queer, but he feels for his friend either way.

"Thanks," Steve mumbles around his mouthful.

"Jesus, Rogers, fuckin' chew. You choke enough as it is." Steve gives him the finger, but returns his concentration to his food. He really is hungry, he just forgets about it sometimes. Bucky has grumbled a few times that it's a talent he'd like to possess, but they both know he doesn't really mean it. Steve scarfs down his food, and finally sets the bowl aside, feeling a little bloated and a lot better. 

Bucky smiles at him. "There you go." He collects the bowl and spoon, and stands up. "Me and the boys are probably going out tonight, but I'll come back for a bit." What he really means is that he'll tuck Steve in and maybe jerk him off, and Steve blushes.

"Sure, Bucky. Thanks." 

His cheeks are still warm when he turns back to his work, but soon he's involved enough that Bucky can sneak back in, grab Steve's shoulders and murmur, "Boo!" in his ear, practically scaring him out of his skin.

Steve yelps and thwacks at Bucky with one hand, leaving a smear of pencil lead on his cheek. "Bucky, you asshole!'

Bucky just grins at him, pulling out a bandana and dunking it in the pan of rainwater underneath the leak in their ceiling. "I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, 'cause you're an asshole," Steve grumbles, getting up and putting his things away. He tries to keep what passes for his studio neat, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Even if that place is just a cracked Mason jar. Bucky just stands there watching him, scrubbing the grey smudge off of his cheek with the damp bandana.

"I may be an asshole, but you really are adorable."

Steve blushes again, rolling up his sketches and tucking them away so he can tuck most of the furniture away as well. It's a scrubby little arrangement, but it doesn't buckle under his art and once he's got it wedged away they actually have some room to move. Sometimes they use it to cook something awful on their pathetic little gas ring, but Bucky has also taught Steve a few dance steps here, as if anyone is ever going to dance with Steve. Now he pulls Steve into his arms, grinning down at him. Steve grins back, and then yawns, leaning on Bucky. "C'mon and let me tire you out a little more," he purrs, and tows Steve back to their bed. 

The mattress and blankets are ancient and it's only lifted off the floor by careful use of broken up peach crates, but Steve keeps it as clean as possible and makes it with nurse's corners every day. Now Bucky gently strips him and stretches him out on top of it, covering him with kisses as he strokes Steve to full hardness, chuckling at the breathy little noises he makes. Bucky has this down to an art, and is catching Steve's come in the bandana and muffling his cry with a deep kiss long before Steve can actually get cold. When he's clean and relaxed and starting to shiver, Bucky just scoops him up and eases him under the covers, actually tucking them in around Steve's bony shoulders.

"Sleep tight, kiddo," he says softly, and kisses Steve's cheek.

"Mm. Quit while you're ahead," he mutters, advice for the poker game Bucky is almost certain to find.

Bucky laughs. "Don't I always?" He kisses Steve's forehead and then stands up, turning down the lanterns as he goes.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve wakes from a dream that he can't really remember but knows was awfully queer, and grins to feel Bucky beside him, fully clothed and on top of the covers. For a long moment Steve just lies there, but at last he pokes Bucky. "Hey, you."

"Mmrgl?"

"Rise and shine, morning glory."

"You're an asshole," Bucky mumbles, not opening his eyes. It is his turn to make breakfast, though, so with a little more prodding he gets up and fries potatoes and bacon, grumbling about his hangover the whole time.

"Your own fault," Steve chirps, utterly remorseless as always.

"Bastard," Bucky growls, passing a full plate to Steve.

Since it's a Monday morning, Steve isn't really expecting to need to do anything but keep roughing out the current batch of posters. He comes wandering out of the trailer only to find Mr. Coulson waiting for him. He straightens up automatically. "Morning, sir."

Coulson smiles, looking like a hallucination in his sharp suit. "Fury sent me to ask you about something."

"Oh?"

I turns out that a lot of the trailers need to be repainted. The little ramshackle ones like Steve's are just weathered wood, but many of the bigger ones have murals or bright color schemes, and they really are starting to look kind of pathetic. It's less noticeable at night, but right now it looks like the whole damn circus has leprosy. He says so before he can censor himself, but Coulson just laughs.

"You're right. So we were thinking we'd send you into town for some house paint and you could fix us up. We'll bankroll, of course, and you can give us an hourly rate on the work."

"Okay," Steve says. "I'll need someone to help with the heavy lifting, though, and Bucky's hungover." He nearly swallows his tongue when Coulson calls Thor over.

Steve has watched Thor's act, of course. He has seen everyone's act by this point, but his crush on Thor makes him too shy to say one word to the guy half the time, along with that fear of being found out. Steve is _mostly_ sure Thor wouldn't hurt him if he realized just how much Steve wants him, but only mostly. Now Thor is sauntering over, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and faded jeans, looking like a god made flesh.

"Yeah?" It has a soft quality, like it's really supposed to be 'ja,' with that faint Asgardian accent of Thor's. His hair looks more gold than ever in the sunlight, and Steve hopes he's not actually having a heart palpitation.

"Steve's gonna go get some paint, and he'll need someone to help him carry it."

"I see." Thor grins. "Always glad to be of service."

Somehow, Steve doesn't drop dead, and ends up in the shotgun seat of one of the old trucks, trying not to stare at Thor's massive hands on the wheel and the stick shift. Thor grumbles to himself about the ruts in the road as they bounce along, but then turns and beams at Steve.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah," Steve says, and coughs, because with all this dust he never really stops. Thor reaches over to pat him on the back, and Steve can feel himself blushing. Jesus, Thor's hands are _huge_...

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." Steve really, really hopes he won't need his nebulizer. He carries it in a padded bag over his heart and lives in fear of breaking it. For now Thor's touch has healed him, though, and after he gobs out the window in the most gentlemanlike way he can manage, he breathes easier.

"This dust is bad for all of us. I worry sometimes about you."

Steve feels himself blushing and tries not to squirm. "I'm mostly okay."

"Well, mostly is good," he says, and starts to sing something in Asgardian. He has a rich, booming voice, and whatever the song is has some swing to it, and could be a good drinking song. He keeps it up for most of the drive into town before finishing on a thunderous crescendo and then asking Steve where they should go.

"I dunno," Steve says, shrugging. "We're just hoping this place at least has a hardware store."

It turns out that a hardware store is all they have, but it'll do. Steve just gets black and white and primary colors, along with some clean buckets to mix in and some rollers and brushes. Thor charms the entire store and probably ensures a ten percent increase in ticket sales for their next performance. Which won't be tonight, they realize as they leave the building to find that the grey sky has turned black with massive thunderheads. There's a wicked flash of lightning, forked and violet-tinted, and then the heavens open. Steve is soaked to the skin by the time they have everything stashed in the back of the truck with an oilcloth over it, and Thor keeps giving him worried looks as they head back to the eastern edge of town. The truck doesn't have a heater, and Steve clenches his jaw in a vain effort to keep his teeth from chattering like castanets. The cold has gone right to his bones before they've covered half a mile, and he starts to cough again, struggling to keep quiet. He's so busy with that that he looks up in surprise when they stop outside a small hotel.

"Thor?"

"We have to get you warm," Thor says. "I'll pay."

Steve blushes furiously, unable to help it. "...Okay." Bucky will worry, but the last time Steve got this chilled and tried to be a tough guy about it he had ended up sick as a dog for two and a half weeks and had almost had to go back to the hospital. This is almost certainly for the best. The man at the desk gives them a sour look, but rents them a single room with a double bed because it's what there is. Thor thanks him and somehow manages to finagle a promise of soup and sandwiches out of him before hauling Steve up the stairs and into their room.

"Your lips are blue," Thor says, and he sounds a lot like Bucky. Acts a lot like Bucky too, grabbing the hem of Steve's soaked shirt and hauling it off over his head. Steve feels more pathetic than ever with his undershirt plastered to the contours of his matchbox of a ribcage, and that distracts him from the main problem, which leaps to the fore again as Thor pulls off Steve's undershirt before stripping himself to the waist as well. He's so beautiful that it makes Steve's breath catch in a way that feels nothing like asthma, and his heart does a little drum-roll of terror as he feels himself getting hard under his soaked trousers. "Steve?"

Steve tries to answer, but all that comes out is a strangled squeak. He's frozen with terror and close to fully hard now, and then Thor peels off his own jeans and it's hopeless. Thor blinks, glances down, and then his eyes get huge. Steve flings his arms up, suddenly sure that he's about to be hit by a guy who makes a living as a strongman.

"No," Thor says softly, and then suddenly those massive arms are wrapped around Steve, guard and all. His arms are bent and squished awkwardly between them, but Thor doesn't seem to mind, rubbing Steve's back with one huge hand, the palm warm against the cold skin. "No, _lotain oun_ , he murmurs, "I would never hurt you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Lotain oun' means 'little one' in Asgardian, here, which is based on using Google Translate and then mangling some Norwegian.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when there's a knock on the door, but Thor just smiles and unbuttons Steve's pants, calling, "One moment!" In that one moment he gets Steve naked, roughs him up with one of the towels provided before wrapping it around his own head to dry his long hair, and then pulls the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around Steve's pathetic, stick-like nudity. That done he buttons his jeans again and goes to the door. For all his saturnine aspect, the night man seems to be decent after all. He has brought them the promised soup and sandwiches, and behind him is a girl with more towels, a big jug of hot water, and a pot of tea. Thor accepts graciously and with his most sincere thanks as well as a large tip, and at last can shut the door and turn back to Steve, who hopes he isn't blushing too badly.

Thor smiles, pouring them each a cup of tea. Steve cradles it to warm his hands and breathes in the steam before taking a cautious sip. Thor warms his hands as well, and then peels his jeans off. Under them he's wearing white briefs that are also soaked through, and Steve can't help making a little craving sound in his throat, biting his lip and looking away in embarrassment after a long moment of openly staring at Thor's cock, which is pretty much completely visible through the thin material. Thor chuckles, and removes that last shield of virtue, draping his clothes and Steve's over the radiator before joining him on the bed and wrapping up in another blanket. After a long while of just sipping tea and warming up, he breaks the silence.

"As a man of honor, I must know how things are between you and Bucky."

Steve smiles, leaning against him. "Oh, don't worry about that. Bucky and I just kinda do _everything_ together, you know? We care about each other and all. Hell, we love each other a lot, we're just not in love, you know?"

"I think I do know," Thor says. "At home such a thing is still called being shield brothers." He takes another swallow of tea before picking up one of the bowls of soup to sip the broth, the movement way more elegant than Steve would've expected.

"I hear the Chinese do that."

"Mm?"

"Drink from the bowl, I mean."

Thor smiles. "I see." He hauls the bedside table around so he can set everything on it, and Steve tries his own soup. It's good, with strong chicken broth, some chunks of what must be salt pork, and potatoes. The silence returns for a while, because both of them are hungry, but at last Thor says, "So, how are things with you and me?"

Steve blushes. "I... I dream about you, sometimes. I think about you a lot and I want to touch you pretty much every time I see you and you're so beautiful it makes my head spin."

Thor grins, opening his blanket. "In that case, why not come join me?" Steve doesn't need to be told twice, and he shivers in Thor's lap even though he's much warmer than he was a moment ago. Thor wraps the other blanket over them and tosses the towel aside, his hair mostly dry and turning wavy with the moisture. He smiles down at Steve. "Better?"

"Yeah," Steve says softly. He can feel himself blushing, and Thor's smile widens as he gathers Steve to his chest, keeping him warm and close. Steve nuzzles what seems like acres of smooth skin and hard muscle, and then blushes and hides his eyes when Thor offers him a piece of sandwich. He risks a glance up, but Thor doesn't look mocking, just honestly concerned.

"You need to eat more, pretty one." Steve opens his mouth and lets Thor feed it to him bite by bite. He feels like a pet, and it's horribly embarrassing and just as wonderful. Thor smiles and finishes everything Steve doesn't eat before settling back on the bed and pulling Steve with him, massive hands rubbing his back. Thor is half-hard against Steve's thigh, and Steve can't help whimpering.

"You're so big," he says softly, and then hides his face again as Thor chuckles, palming his ass with one hand.

"I'm glad it doesn't frighten you. You make me feel ungainly."

"Never!" Steve breathes, more fiercely than he really means to. He looks up at Thor, whose face is flushing pink with disarming shyness. "You're so graceful," Steve says, and kisses Thor's chest again, tempted by those hard pink nipples but still unsure of what's allowed. "You'd be beautiful anyway, but the way you move..." Thor shivers under him, and rocks his hips just a little, sliding that huge cock along Steve's thigh and making him shudder.

" _Lotain oun_ , as a man of honor I need to know what you do and don't want."

"Everything," Steve blurts, feeling like an idiot. "I, I want everything. I want you inside me." Thor stills under him and for a moment Steve thinks he's asking too much.

"I... would it fit?" Thor asks, which such honest concern that it makes Steve laugh and climb up his body to kiss him.

"I want to try," Steve says, already rock hard again at the thought of it, and Thor makes a soft and helpless noise that goes straight to Steve's heart. And other places. He kisses Thor again and then forces himself to sit up and look around. They aren't visible from the windows and the curtains are already pulled, but he has to hop up and pad over to lock the door, shivering as he paws through the pockets of his discarded clothes for the sunburn cream he usually has with him, his nebulizer already resting beside the empty plates. He doesn't like the thought of leaving the wet clothes on the floor for any length of time, but Thor is watching him from the bed and Steve just hopes to God none of his various fucking conditions act up. 

Thor reaches out to him, and Steve cuddles into his arms again, clutching the little jar of lotion and just getting warm again at first. And then Thor just trails his fingertips down Steve's spine and between his cheeks, and Steve whimpers, sucking Thor's nipple into his mouth and making a little surprised noise as Thor convulsively squeezes his ass, his other hand cramming a corner of the pillow into his mouth. Steve moans as quietly as he can, sucking in long, slow pulls, the flat of his tongue caressing pebbled flesh. Thor gasps something in Asgardian, and clutches helplessly at Steve, all that power held down by a ninety-eight-pound weakling. Switching sides, Steve whimpers at the gentleness of Thor's heavy hand on his head, and pointedly spreads his legs for the other one, straddling Thor and feeling slightly faint as the head of Thor's cock touches his lower back, soft and slick and warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor has broad fingers, and Steve has to take deep breaths and relax to slip onto the first one. Thor kisses him over and over, and adds more lotion than is strictly necessary. They've moved to be between the sheets now, since those will (hopefully, for the sake of public health) be laundered as a matter of course. It's warmer here, and Steve bites his lip and wriggles back onto Thor's finger. Thor swears breathlessly in English and Asgardian, pressing more kisses to Steve's chin and jaw as the whole length slides in. Steve wriggles and makes a soft, happy noise, and Thor grins. He lets Steve set the pace, which is slow and shallow at first. He always has to get used to it, but it never takes him long. He loves being filled, and the thought of how much more there is to come makes him whine and clench desperately.

"Steve?"

"So good," Steve gasps, and starts to rock his hips in the kind of quick, long strokes he can never really sustain. "Oh... another, please," he murmurs, and Thor moans quietly, easing another slick finger into Steve. He has obviously done this before, realizing that the smartest strategy is to mostly hold still and let Steve push back and open up at his own pace. The bedside lamp casts a warm yellow glow and the rain patters on the windows and Steve falls into something like a light trance, just fucking himself open on Thor's fingers.

"May I try?" Thor whispers at last, and Steve opens his eyes, still panting softly, and looks down to see Thor's first three fingers buried in him up to the knuckle, holding him wide open.

"Yeah," Steve murmurs, and then bites his lip as Thor's fingers slide out. He holds onto Steve's hips and lines his slick cock up against his hole. "Go ahead," Steve says when Thor hesitates, and then he can't say anything because that huge cock is pushing into him, opening him up further than he ever has been before. Steve's head tips back and he can feel his mouth hanging open as he slides down onto Thor, taking him deeper and deeper. He leans forward again and sobs, putting his hands on Thor's shoulders for balance as he keeps taking it. It feels like this first long, slow, not-thrust will just keep going forever, but at last Steve is sitting in Thor's lap, thick golden pubic hair tickling his balls. For a long moment Steve just breathes, and he when he's sure he's not going to have the worst-timed asthma attack ever, he leans down and starts sucking Thor's nipples again, loving the way it makes him quiver and whine. He tugs at Steve's hair, but not hard enough to hurt, and Steve groans quietly, starting to rock again.

"I can't fucking believe it," Thor slurs, sounding like he's drunk on fucking Steve, eyes limpid and wide as Steve rides him, the weight of Thor's hands on his hips helping him take it as deep as possible when he presses down. Steve loves grinding down and feeling the head of Thor's cock so hard and so deep, but at last his thighs start to shake and cramp up, and he pauses, panting.

"Thor?"

"Are you all right?" Thor asks, and the look on his face, of concern warring so successfully with so much pleasure, makes Steve's whole body tighten up and puts a lump in his throat that has nothing to do with asthma.

"Yeah, I just...." he shrugs, embarrassed to be giving out already. "Kinda running out of steam, here."

"No you're not," Thor says, just touching Steve's cock with one fingertip, making him jump and whine. He smiles up at Steve and puts the finger in his mouth, sucking precome off of it like he has never tasted anything more delicious.

"Thor..." Steve gasps, and then squeaks in surprise when Thor rolls them over. He's very careful to keep his weight off of Steve. His cock slips about a third of the way out with the motion, and Steve throws his arms around Thor's neck, muffling a cry against Thor's chest as he pushes back in.

"Good?"

"So good. Jesus, _Thor_..." Thor kisses him again, and it's a good thing because there's no way Steve can stop himself from moaning as Thor starts to fuck him slow and deep. Bucky has complained about Steve's sometimes contradictory directions and requests, but Thor is so huge he can hit every sensitive spot, and he drags and pushes so slowly, savoring every inch of Steve. It makes Steve feel used and worshiped at the same time and he whimpers desperately, close to coming even without a hand on his cock. Thor cradles Steve's head in one hand to keep it from knocking against the headboard, and murmurs disjointedly about how beautiful Steve is and how good he feels.

"So tight," Thor growls, grinding in particularly hard. "Every time I can't believe this tiny hole is taking me, that you can open up like this."

Steve whimpers, hiding his flaming face in Thor's chest again. "Want it all," he mutters, "want it all and I wanna feel you come inside me and I wanna come and please, Thor, _please_..." Thor slides almost all the way out and then pushes back in until he bottoms out and Steve is clutching at his back and whining breathlessly.

"Now," Thor rumbles, and grips Steve's cock at last, squeezing and stroking. Steve twitches, gasps, and then he's coming, mouth stretched open without a sound as his eyes roll back and Thor just keeps fucking him until he's finished and oversensitive and then just a few more before burying himself as deep into Steve as he can get, pulsing and twitching inside him, hot and wet and beyond perfect.

Of course, Steve being Steve, he falls asleep before he can even assure Thor that he feels absolutely wonderful. He wakes up clean and dry, with the sun blasting in through the window. He's alone in the bed but before he can feel abandoned he hears Thor humming, and shaking out their mostly-dry clothes.

"Good morning, _lotain oun_ ," he says, smiling when Steve blushes. "No one came out in the rain to steal our paints, and the oilcloth kept the cans from rusting."

Steve just grins. "That's great. Can I have a kiss?"

Thor grins back, padding over to the bed as he buttons his jeans. "Of course," he says, leaning in and pressing his lips to Steve's.


End file.
